Masquerade
by Dizzydodo
Summary: Maria and Altair steal a moment to relive old memories together, but not everything goes as planned. Two shot. Rated M for sexual situations.
1. Masquerade

Maria sensed the wrongness from the first moment she entered the room; the corridor echoed with the sounds of celebration and revelry yet here all was silent.

She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck prickling as she began to strip off her greaves; better not to disarm, not if there was a potential threat in the area. An assassin perhaps? Surely not here, there were sentries posted at every outlook and she knew them personally. There were any number of soldiers who envied her position; might they be planning some revenge? If so, they were in for a nasty surprise; her reputation was not unwarranted.

She froze when she heard the sound of shifting cloth, the muffled click of a boot; planting her feet in a combative stance she turned in a tight circle, inspecting the darkened corners and glancing about for anything out of place.

The room was eerily still. As she began to relax, something dropped from above her; she caught the flutter of a cloak out of the corner of her eye and turned to confront her attacker only to be shoved brutally off balance so that she caught herself against the wall. Why had she left her sword hanging above the bed? That amateur mistake might well cost her life tonight.

Maria lashed out when she felt his fingers twine through her hair to ruthlessly bare her throat to his blade and heard a gasp as he flinched when her elbow connected. She smirked, Maria de Thorpe would die fighting when all was said and done.

Her smile vanished when she felt the cool edge of a steel blade against her skin; Damascus steel, as dark as sin and every bit as wicked. She tried to stomp on his foot, but he twisted nimbly and glided the blade gently along her pale skin so that she could feel the warmth of a trickle of blood; a warning she knew better than to ignore.

"What do you want, assassin? Whatever it is, you would do better to seek it elsewhere. I am in no mood for sport."

Maria shivered as he pressed his mouth near her ear and breathed "I think not. I think you have exactly what I need."

She tried to twist away from him, as quickly as she could without injuring herself on the blade, but he pressed her firmly to the cool stone wall, pinning her in place with his implacable weight. She could feel him pressed along the length of her, his hips pinning her to the wall as his chest pressed against her shoulders, the knife drawing a little away from her vulnerable flesh.

"This doesn't have to end badly, Templar. Give me what I am looking for and I will disappear; you can pretend I was never here."

"We both know you're lying, assassin, and as I said, you would have done better to choose easier prey."

Maria hooked a leg behind his knee and pulled it forward quickly; as he fell against her, she twisted to face him, grasping his wrist to keep the concealed blade from her. Before he could react, she cocked her knee and brought it up swiftly between his legs; with a strangled gasp, he shifted to block it, gazing at her with murderous intent.

"Clever." He cocked his head, "But not quite enough, Templar."

"My name is Maria, though I doubt you'll have much occasion to use it." Her attacker was in motion before she had even finished the sentence, feigning a blow with his right hand, when she stepped aside to avoid it, he shoved her off balance with his other hand and she connected to the door with a solid thump.

Twice in one bloody fight he had tripped her! Maria's eyes narrowed; he would pay for each blow to her pride before the night was through. Her eyes widened again as she felt him insinuate his thigh between her legs, brushing against her center so that she started; his knowing chuckle warned her that he had caught her reaction.

"Maria Thorpe," Maria sucked in a shocked breath at the way his voice caressed her name. "I am Altair Ibn La'ahad," he leaned forward, "And I swear you will have occasion to use it."

"I've nothing to say to you, assassin", she sneered. "Kill me and be done with it."

"That would defeat my purpose entirely, my lady."

Altair leaned forward, still pinning her to the door with his forearms braced firmly on her shoulders and his thigh pushing more firmly against her; she gasped as he traced his tongue along the small cut left by his blade and paused to suck at the tender flesh. She winced at the sting, leaning her head back nevertheless to allow him access.

He held her there for a long moment, drawing in her scent as his teeth moved followed the arch of her neck to clamp down roughly on her pulse. "Your heart is beating so fast, are you frightened, _Maria_?"

Maria arched against him roughly, "Why don't you just slink back to whichever corner of hell you managed to crawl out of, assassin?"

"Is that a no? I've given you my name; use it when you address me."

"I don't care to, _assassin_."

He chuckled darkly, "I could make you care."

Maria snorted and he shifted the leg she had almost forgotten was wedged between her own. Gradually his hands slid down to her hips, taking her in a bruising grip as he shifted her position on his thigh, moving his leg up still higher so that she had to rise slightly on the balls of her feet. When she pulled back from him, he pulled her forward again so that the seam of her trousers pushed firmly against her center, she arched into him with a gasp, her legs giving slightly before she caught herself, bringing her into even more intimate contact with his leg.

She used his thigh for leverage as she once again balanced on the balls of her feet, her eyelids fluttering slightly at the warm friction in such a sensitive place.

"Open your eyes; look at me."

Maria forced them open to glare at him. "Let me be clear; this doesn't change anything, assassin."

She pushed against his chest, but he leaned further into her, catching her lips in a bruising kiss. Maria clamped her mouth shut, determined to resist, but he swept his tongue so temptingly along the curve of her lips that she opened, drawing it into her mouth to duel with him.

Altair drew back, pulling her bottom lip between his teeth to bite firmly before soothing it gently. Maria growled, nipping along the edge of his lips so that he gasped; she took the opportunity to draw him back into an open-mouthed kiss as she continued to ride his thigh.

He released her hips to catch her hands, placing them at either side of her head, "Do not move."

She nodded her acquiescence, curling her hands into fists as the sensations intensified. With a movement swifter than her eye could track he had released his hidden blade and cut neatly down the length of her shirt, perilously close to her flesh but never quite touching.

She glared, "It is going to be difficult to explain to my superiors exactly how that came about."

Altair shook his head mockingly, "If you are still thinking of consequences then I mustn't be trying hard enough."

"I-" she lost her train of thought when his calloused hands cupped her gently, brushing over nipple soothingly before clamping down harshly; pinching and rolling her tender flesh between his thumb and forefinger. She began to move faster, groaning in frustration as he lowered his leg. If he would no longer supply the stimulation she needed then she would just take matters into her own hands.

She brought her hands down from the wall, tracing them down her rib cage and over the arch of her hips as she felt her muscles jump at the teasing caress but before she could reach her destination he caught her hands in his own.

"I told you not to move these."

"I don't take orders from assassins."

Altair grasped her wrists in one hand, dragging them back above her head as his other hand dipped to the fastenings of her trousers, undoing them deftly before ghosting his fingers over her exposed flesh.

Maria hissed and bucked, trying to draw him closer to her need but he would have none of it, tracing his hand up her abdomen slowly to circle her belly button. She shivered and tensed as he once again cupped a breast and raised it to his mouth, swirling his tongue before drawing it in for a none-too gentle nip.

Maria rocked her hips against him; she was far past the point of any pretense, it didn't matter that he was an enemy as long as he didn't stop.

He drew away from her to catch her eyes once again. "What is my name?"

"Forgot it, did you?"

Altair laughed softly, tugging her firmly across the room to the bed tucked neatly in the corner; she briefly considered resistance but dismissed the idea almost immediately, for this she would swallow her pride. When her turn came, she would teach the assassin to beg- all in good time.

She felt the back of her knees connect with the edge of the bed and allowed herself to fall, catching his belt as she did so, fumbling with the fastening in her haste. She heard the hiss of the blade as he drew it from its sheathe, tracing patterns in her skin with the edge. Maria tensed, but the smirk on his face held only lascivious intent and she continued her work to push aside his cloak, reaching for the warmth of his skin, tracing her nails along the lines of his muscles.

He cut the remainder of her shirt from her and Maria scowled, "There is no need to destroy my things."

"I'm sure you have another."

Before she could protest he straddled her, his mouth tracing from the hollow of her throat down to her stomach as his hands caressed her hip bones, and explored the indentations in her back, moving down to catch her behind her knees so that he could draw her legs up.

Maria squirmed fitfully as he leaned back once more to gaze at her.

"You are so-" she cut him off as she reached up to finish pulling those blasted trousers from him; he assisted, quickly divesting himself of the rest of his weapons and attire so that he was as bare as she.

Much better; they were on equal footing once again.

Maria propped herself on her elbows, trying to lure him into another kiss and but he pulled away and traced his lips over her exposed wrist, feathering over the pulse he found there. Maria leaned back and caught his hips with her hands, tracing her hands down to grasp him firmly, taking delight in his increasingly shallow breaths.

He arched into her hand unthinkingly before jerking roughly back, just barely managing a cocky smirk, "But you don't even know my name."

"Basta-" her breath left her in a rush as he cupped her intimately, tracing his thumb along her slit to circle temptingly about her clit but never quite touching, only taunting. She opened her mouth to speak again, but he dipped a clever finger inside her, curling it and her thoughts scattered once again.

She rocked against his fingers shamelessly as he thrust languidly into her; her attempts to quicken the pace were in vain and her frustration grew.

He pinched her clit and she thought she might come, but then the teasing pressure was gone. She gnashed her teeth at him but he only smiled wider.

"You know what I want."

Maria's vision blurred as his gentle teasing continued, her fingers twisted into the coverlet as she writhed but his pace remained consistently calm until he stopped altogether.

She just caught her whimper before it escaped, changed it to a hiss instead. Altair dipped, running his hands to her knees and yanking until she bent her knees, spreading them wider.

She was by no means a virgin, but when he looked at her with such clear hunger in his gaze she grew a little light-headed, even as she felt the blush rising up her neck and spreading across her entire body.

There wasn't much time for such thoughts though, in the next moment he had pushed his tongue inside her and oh the wicked things he was doing to her were surely a sin but she couldn't find it in her to care.

Without warning he pulled her clit between his lips and she cried out as her fingers twisted in his hair. She was so close, but he was withdrawing again, and in desperation she finally called his name.

"Altair, please."

He met her eyes and she cursed that smug smile that flitted across his lips, "Precisely."

He crawled up her body so slowly, running his fingers through her hair as he held her face between his hands. "That is exactly what I was looking for, Templar." He caught her lips in a kiss before she found the breath to protest.

!

!

!

Maria lay tangled and sated; basking in the companionable silence for just a moment longer, but there was work to be done after all. She pushed at Altair, who continued to make a show of sleeping.

"Get up, if we don't get back to the feast soon they are going to send someone looking for us and as much as I enjoy watching you talk your way out of trouble I've no desire to see this."

Altair snorted and pulled her closer, "Just a few minutes longer."

"Very well, then we can discuss other matters. Such as why you felt the need to rip my shirt, or where you've tossed my bloody boots or how about where you've put my favorite knife?"

"You're going to complain? You just about unmanned me, wench!"

"But you were not playing fair; you came too soon and I wasn't ready."

"I didn't think you had any complaints about that at least," he purred.

Maria smacked his arm playfully, "Lout; you know what I meant. I wasn't even armed; I thought we agreed that you would let me bring my sword."

"Beloved, I assure you that you are every bit as dangerous even without your toys. Besides, it's only play and I wouldn't like you to forget that and skewer me on a whim."

Maria hummed contentedly, "We can put this aside for later; now, we really should head back down. There's no telling what a hall full of rowdy assassins might do in your absence."

"They're adults, they don't need a nursemaid. Likely they're all drunk by now anyway. I'm sure Malik will keep an eye on everyone in my absence."

Maria rolled her eyes, "He was drunk before we even managed to sneak out."

Altair rolled to pin her beneath him once again, "Leave them. We have better things to do with our time."

Maria allowed him to distract her for the moment; revenge was a dish best served cold after all.


	2. Hunting Monsters

Maria raced through the city streets, keeping a weather eye on the rooftops; there was no telling when or where her prey might make an appearance but she would be prepared. It had been some time since she had been permitted to hunt and she was determined to make the most of it.

The steady scuff of her boots on the sand and rock of the streets was an affront to her ears, but speed was infinitely more important than stealth when pursuing this particular mark she well knew.

For a moment a shadow fell across her as something obstructed the faint moonlight; glancing down she could see his silhouette racing just ahead of her- now if only she could find a way to catch him. The bastard really was too clever by half, and didn't he just love making that painfully apparent to all and sundry? She promised herself that tonight she would gain the upper hand.

As it turned out, he solved the difficulty for her by leaping athletically to a lower terrace and thence to a haystack to cushion his fall, not once glancing back at her as he continued to run.

Maria put on a burst of speed to kick his knee harshly out from under him so that he sprawled somehow gracefully in the dirt. Before he could regain his feet, her short-sword was drawn and pressed lightly just beneath his shoulder blade.

"I find I like you kneeling. Stay there."

His breath hitched and he turned to stare back at her, eyes sharp with accusation, "Vengeance is hardly worthy of you; still upset that I took you unawares?"

"Oh no, in fact I was quite satisfied; weren't you, _Altair_?" She smirked as his eyes widened beneath the shadow of his hood. With a flick of her blade that came perilously near his face she threw it back to meet his gaze.

"You have a pretty face; don't hide it."

The smallest of smiles flickered on his exposed face and stretched the small scar that ran across the corner of his lip; Maria found herself licking her own suddenly dry lips.

How was it that he always managed to regain control of any situation even and especially when the odds were entirely against him? Her face firmed again, not tonight. Tonight was hers.

She stalked forward and bent to take his mouth in a ruthless kiss, running her tongue along the slightly raised scar before pulling his lower lip into her mouth and biting until she could taste the tang of blood. He groaned and forced his tongue between her teeth, leaning forward to continue his exploration as she slowly pulled away.

She spoke to cover her panting breaths. "Where did you come by that scar?"

"Careful, Templar; I might begin to think you care."

Maria smoothly glided in front of him to press her sword beneath his chin, lifting his gaze to hers. "I asked you a question. You would do well to remember who is in control here."

"I have my doubts." He rumbled so softly she scarcely heard it.

"Do you? I will change that."

She swept the blade down to cut across the shoulder of his robe, sweet revenge for her own ruined attire. Maria reveled in the consternation painted on his face; this would be a revelation for both of them. Exactly how far could she push before he finally snapped?

Another delicate knick and the tunic slowly fell from his shoulders to bare his chest. She took in his tanned skin by moonlight, the barest sheen of sweat visible to her eyes; it took all her will not to kneel and trace her tongue across the pale scars that crossed his skin, follow that beading drop of moisture to his waist.

Sheathing her blade she stepped forward to take his chin in a bruising grip and force his eyes to meet hers; she could see a certain smug satisfaction in his gaze even now. She traced his lips with her nail as they tilted slightly at the corners and he nipped playfully, sucking the tip into his mouth to teasingly circle his tongue about it.

Maria smiled, "You have a talented tongue, I can think of better uses for it."

Altair's eyes widened in a brief expression of shock- she could see him glancing swiftly in every direction; at this hour of the night the watchmen would be patrolling the streets, but she was in no mood to let that spoil her fun.

"I don't think-"

Maria hushed him, her finger tapping his lips softly, "I don't recall telling you to think."

Altair swallowed, the smile had vanished and she was pleased to see the slightest bit of uncertainty in his eyes. This was new, and he wasn't sure what to make of it.

Maria ever so slowly undid the ties of her trousers, keeping eye contact all the while as she slid them down her hips with agonizing slowness.

"Tsk. I forgot the boots; take them off for me."

With trepidation, Altair reached out to undo the buckles of her boots; his fingers trembled making him uncharacteristically clumsy.

Maria yanked his hair sharply, "We don't have all night, be quick about it."

He yanked the boot roughly from her foot and Maria had to fight to keep her balance, using his shoulders as a support. He ran his fingers teasingly over the top of her foot and Maria jumped, frowning. It was not fair that he knew all her ticklish spots, and this was no way for a ranking Templar to behave. Maria coughed and straightened, ignoring his stifled chuckle.

"And the other."

He pulled her other boot to his lap and began undoing the buckles once more; despite his position there was no hint of humility in the pose. That was one of the things she appreciated about him, that unbending pride might have been obnoxious in anyone else, and it was certainly frustrating, but it was familiar nonetheless.

The ground was chill under her bare feet and she almost reconsidered, but he was smirking again and she wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

She glided her trousers over her hips and he reached up to assist her, she batted his hands away. "No touching, assassin."

Altair frowned, "I know we have had this conversation before; I told you to call me Altair."

"I'll call you whatever I please, _assassin._ Don't forget who's giving the orders now."

Their gazes clashed- each attempting to stare the other down; finally, with a shrug as though it didn't really matter, Altair broke eye contact.

"Yes, sir."

And didn't she just love the sound of that on his lips?

Altair glanced warily about once again as she discarded her trousers, "You realize if anyone sees you like this I will have to commit murder?"

"Not your decision. We have the streets to ourselves for now."

"Perhaps we should move to the roof."

"Perhaps you should hold your tongue and enjoy."

"I thought you had a use for my tongue," he snickered.

Maria laughed softly, "Don't I just."

She pulled him toward her, his head at the junction of her thighs, "Are you clever enough to guess it?"

She felt the breath of his laughter as he leaned forward and licked languidly over her center, his hands tracing up the inside of her thighs.

"Did I tell you to use your hands? Fold them in your lap."

Altair pulled back to glare at her predatorily. "Careful."

Maria snorted, "Stop delaying and accept the inevitable."

She smiled charmingly and Altair shook his head in mock despair, leaning forward once again as Maria traced the sharp lines of his face.

The crunch of boots on gravel made them both jump guiltily; Altair fixed Maria with a darkening look before unceremoniously bundling her into the alley.

Maria cursed, "What are they doing here? This isn't exactly the liveliest part of town."

Altair frowned, "Likely drunk and looking for a way to avoid notice themselves; I warned you."

"Don't be smug." She pulled him down for another kiss but he pulled back.

"I have an idea."

Maria groaned, "This is how trouble starts."

"Let's play a game." He could see her ears perk up at that, Maria was nothing if not competitive.

"I'm listening."

"Don't let them spot us."

She shook her head, "We're already playing that ga-"

Maria cut off with a gasp as Altair swooped to press her to the ground, pinning her there with his arm across her chest as he leaned in to nibble at the shell of her ear, whispering softly "Not quite this way, though."

Maria pushed him back, arching her hips and twisting so that he rolled to the side where she pinned him. She leaned forward to press her lips to his collarbone and bit down firmly, sucking the reddened skin soothingly. She thought she heard the beginnings of a swiftly muffled growl and smiled softly against his skin.

Her satisfaction was short-lived; Altair's cool hands ghosted up her thighs, tracing his blunt nails along the curve of her hip and up to her spine as she arched against him in surprise and her sharper nails dug into his shoulders.

She could hear his gasp and stifled it quickly with a kiss, sweeping her tongue into his mouth to explore leisurely.

She pulled back with a grin, "We need to be quiet, remember."

Altair glared and twisted viciously, Maria found herself once more on the cracked cobbles as Altair sat up and dragged her to his lap. "I can't hear them anymore; they've probably moved on."

"I wouldn't bet on it. It's late and the street is deserted, they're likely sleeping off some of the evening's excess."

"Doesn't matter."

He jerked her firmly against him and Maria whimpered in surprise, "Not fair, you're still dressed."

Altair smirked, "Everything is permitted."

Maria scowled, "Very well. If you want to bring your creed into it."

She bit roughly into his neck, raking her nails down his vulnerable back so that he groaned, twisting away from her nails, bucking against her.

Maria slipped her hands down his front, lingering as she felt his muscles shifting beneath her fingers, the belt was troublesome caught between them as it was, but years of practice had honed her skills; she made short work of the buckle and slipped her hands smoothly in, reveling in his nearly imperceptible trembling.

She teased, keeping her strokes light so that he groaned with frustration, nipping at her neck, his hands clenching her ass to shift her more forcefully against him but she used her leverage to hold back.

Losing patience, he shoved her back to the ground, one hand taking hers to press it more tightly against him while he tilted her head back to bare her neck with the other, leaving faint bruises along the pale arch of her neck.

She clutched him desperately, twining her legs about him as he shuddered, pushing her hands away. She gasped when he entered her without warning, shifting roughly against her so that she clawed at the hard ground, still desperate to win their little game of silence.

The faint hum of talk and laughter reached their ears and Altair stiffened, but Maria reached between them, stroking his exposed flesh so that with a frustrated growl he began to move once again. She shivered slightly as he placed his lips to her ear. "If they find us, you're going to get it."

Maria purred, "Intriguing."

Altair gasped, his movements steadily becoming more desperate and Maria lost track of precisely what she had meant to add as her vision blurred. With effort she placed her fingers to his lips, using her other to pull herself to his ear.

"What's _my _name, assassin?"

He arched desperately, clutching her to him as he cried out her name.

For the briefest moment there was silence, and then the sound of running feet. Altair scrambled shakily to his feet, hauling her up behind him.

"New game. If we're caught, I will make you suffer, Templar."

Maria laughed aloud as she rushed to don her robe, "I look forward to it."


	3. The Dos and Don'ts of Interrogation

Altair writhed against his restraints, taking some perverse comfort in the rough abrasion of rope against his skin. If he could not see then at least he could feel, and the sting of his rough bonds was small payment for his failure.

He cursed the Templars beneath his breath, still reeling from the shock of his capture. He hadn't expected a woman; his eyes had been focused on the wrong man when the true threat had been _her._ Maria Thorpe. He wasn't likely to forget the name assuming he survived whatever tortures had been devised for him.

Altair shifted against the wood of the chair he was bound to once more, trying to find some way to sink lower and brush the blindfold from his eyes. The silence was deafening and it would do much for his peace of mind if he could at least make out his surroundings.

The sound of Maria's husky voice gave him pause; "Do not exhaust your strength in some vain attempt at escape, Altair." And damn him for reacting to the sound of his name on her lips.

"You are not my master that I should obey your orders without question, woman."

Maria's footsteps were light on the stone floor, but his sharp ears could hear the whisper of cloth against skin, the muffled sound of her breathing.

Her hot breath tickled the curve of his ear as she pressed her mouth there to whisper. "No, not your master. Only the woman who holds your life in her hands."

"For how long?" Altair murmured, "Were you wise you would release me and spare yourself my revenge."

"I have only just caught you; to release you now before I have learned the answer to my questions would be foolish indeed." He could hear the smirk in her voice and wished that his hands were free; she would have realized her error too late, then.

"Ask and have done, but do not expect an answer from me. I am no pet to perform on command."

A solitary finger traced idle patterns over his exposed back, "No. You are too feral a creature to keep."

Altair startled when she bent to press a kiss to his jaw, another at the joining of his shoulder and throat. Her hands slid over his shoulders and down his arms, pressing into all the tight knots in his muscles caused by his bindings.

He hissed softly, her palms gliding to his front and over his stomach, nails tracing the small scars there, thumb brushing over his hipbone.

"What are you doing?" He ground out, not truly expecting an answer; had their positions been reversed he would not have given one.

It seemed Maria Thorpe was more inclined to mercy than he, "It is very important to know one's enemy. Would you not agree?"

"I do not think this is quite what is meant by the phrase."

She nipped his shoulder roughly, "I like to be thorough."

Altair chuckled and tilted his face up to where he expected she stood, "If you want to use me like a whore then you might at least remove the blindfold."

He twitched at the feel of her fingers gripping his throat menacingly, tightening on his windpipe in warning, "You are crass."

The next moment her lips covered his, tongue tracing his lips until he opened to her expectantly. It was not a gentle kiss, more an extension of their struggle, made all the more difficult by their odd position. She pulled away, and he felt a bolt of satisfaction shoot through him at the sound of her muffled pants.

"I can appreciate your directness, at least."

"More than that, I think."

She laughed, a genuine peal of merriment; Altair remained silent and waited for her fit to subside.

"You've accomplished nothing thus far. Is there not a question you meant to ask?"

"In time; patience."

Patience had never been one of his virtues; he wasn't likely to cultivate it now.

"Have done with this, already."

She was moving again; he tilted his head, following the sound of her progress. This temporary blindness was beyond vexing; it magnified every sound, made every touch that much more intense, but he would give his best sword to see her reaction to his insolence. He was willing to wager her eyes were sparkling with mirth and sharp with vexation; he wished her joy of this- there would most certainly be a reckoning.

At that thought a smile curled Altair's lips and he heard her breath catch at the unexpected sight. She was before him then.

He recoiled at the feel of one inquisitive fingertip tracing the scar that split the corner of his lip. "Where did you get this?"

Not the question he had been expecting.

"Youthful arrogance."

"You still have that in great supply." She murmured wryly. He tensed at the feel of her hands gliding up his bare torso, thumbs circling his peaked nipples.

"What are you doing?"

"I should think that would be obvious." He could hear her licking her lips, kneeling on the ground before him.

"Maria-" His voice was hardly a whisper, a clear warning. She cheerfully disregarded him, hands following the outline of his ribs and muscles cautiously.

"Hm?"

"Stop."

"No." She was smiling again, he could hear it in her voice. He swallowed tightly at the feel of her tongue working a delicate tracery over his taut muscles.

He yanked at his bonds once more, felt the soft puff of laughter against the wetness. "You are so impatient."

Altair started to growl an affirmation, but swallowed his words when her warm hands dipped beneath his robes to follow the crease of his thigh.

"You-" He cut off while her thumb traced distractingly lower, making circles that drove him to distraction.

"I?"

"You should remember that whatever you choose to visit upon me will be returned three-fold."

"Intriguing."

Altair's head fell back, her rough palm wrapping about his length and stroking firmly. He gritted his teeth, muscles clenching as he strained against the bonds once more. Damn, if he could see her face… except that every touch was magnified, made more intimate by the darkness and the relative silence.

All he could see was the darkness, and all he could hear was the sound of his own ragged breathing mingling with her shallow breaths.

Her free hand stole up his back when he arched again, pressing into the dip of his spine, nails digging into his skin until he could feel the sting. He was forced to admit that this would be a most effective form of interrogation, if she had actually asked him anything.

"I've a question for you." She leaned forward, nipped at his stomach, hardly able to take the skin in her teeth. He jumped anyway, arching into her ministrations.

"Ask."

"There's a change; I thought you were not inclined to answer?"

"Ask, damn you. I'll decide whether to answer."

For a moment, time seemed to stand still and then she spoke; "Do you love me?"

She moved swiftly, rising up to catch his mouth in a kiss, pressing her weight into him and forcing him back. One hand twined in his short hair, drawing him back to bear his throat for her nips and bites.

He gasped and bucked, trying desperately to summon the words to his lips, but he was far past sense. It was simply too much to bear any longer.

She stifled his cry with her lips as he came, rocking suggestively into him, taunting him until pleasure bordered on pain.

He broke away from her, panting softly, "Enough."

"No. Say it." She began to move again and Altair's head fell back, suddenly too heavy for his body.

"I love you." It took everything he had to say it, not only for the pleasurable agony coursing through him but also because the words had seemed to lodge in his throat, choking him. There had seldom been a need to say the words; she had to know it from the way he looked at her, the tiny gestures he offered as tokens of his affection. She should have felt it every time he laid a hand on her and heard it every time he said her name.

She whisked the blindfold away and Altair blinked at the sudden return of sight, colored dots dancing in his vision.

Maria grinned down at him mischievously; "You may go. I've learned all I expected."

She yelped as Altair caught her about the waist to pull her closer; "How did you…? When?"

"Threefold I said; you really should have heeded my warning."


End file.
